


My Friend Hellstrom

by Kereea



Category: Journey into Mystery, Marvel, Thor (Comics)
Genre: Daimon swearing a lot, Demon fighting, Demonic Possession, Demons, Gen, Kid Loki, Loki gets to be a sidekick, odd friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Kid Loki stayed, he is saddened by Leah’s departure back to Hel and decides to cultivate a friend with his only other possibility: Daimon Hellstrom. Daimon thinks it sounds interesting. This can't end well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Sidekick Appilcation

‘Winning’ was slightly overrated. 

Loki was bored. His former self was not exactly…gone, as it were, more like Ikol had once more become a part of him or something. He didn’t dwell on it, outside of missing the bird’s conversation.

Leah was back in the underworld with Hela. Thori had been a traitor, and though Garm was insistent that she would get her pup in line and return him to Loki he did not get his hopes up. Thor was busy with the Avengers and dealing with the chaos in Asgard caused by Odin’s return.

Odin did not seem to wish to rule, but he was crafty and Thor seemed to mistrust him more than some people made it sound like he’d trusted the former Loki, so who knew what he really had planned? The All-Mother were determined to hold onto their power, and frankly Loki felt their rule was just fine, but many traditionalists were against it. Lady Sif had been fighting on their behalf in the arena for weeks, often against the same men over and over.

Loki was bored.

.o.o.o.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, until a few minutes ago, I was watching you beat up minor fiends,” Loki said. “I thought I should let you finish.”

“Good plan, kid,” Daimon said, lighting a cigarette. “Might have roasted you.”

“Or put me in a trashcan of doom?” Loki asked. 

“Good one,” Daimon said. “So, why’d you come looking for me?”

“Well…Leah had to go home and Thori betrayed me and Thor’s busy…”

“Bored?” Daimon asked. 

“Yes. I hope that’s not too offensive,” Loki said. “I also hope that perhaps I still have a chance to be your sidekick…?”

“…You’re desperate,” Daimon said. 

“Yes.”

“And people call you a liar,” Daimon chuckled, taking a sip of his soda.

“Only with people I don’t like,” Loki said, stirring his milkshake. “Or if it protects my friends.”

“Yeah. There’s nobility in that—you really must have gotten rewired when you de-aged.”

Daimon was looking at him and Loki realized that the man was testing him somehow.

“I…have finally retrieved the majority of my memories, though I tend to lock them up. Even when I see what the old me justified as his ‘why’ I cannot comprehend many of his actions,” Loki confessed. “Nor his motives, in many cases. I do know I owe Spider-Man for something and that I wish to be nowhere near Victor von Doom…”

“Hey, fresh starts are important,” Daimon said. “Last-second chance and all.”

“So…can I be your sidekick?” Loki asked.

“Parental permission. I’m not getting an Amber Alert put out over this,” Daimon said. “Have whoever come by tomorrow—your brother, a parent, whoever.”

“All right,” Loki sighed. “Can you be on good behavior?”

“Hmm…I am the Son of Satan you know…” Daimon said. “Kidding, I’ll play nice. No trashcans of doom or alcohol…well, maybe alcohol…”

.o.o.o.

“So…you wish to travel with this man,” Frigga said. 

“Yes. He aided me in the Nightmare Debacle and with the Manchester Gods,” Loki said. “He also regularly fights evil.”

Daimon stared at the woman who was Loki’s adoptive mother and one of the three current (if disputed) rulers of Asgard. 

“And you, Hellstrom…can you keep Loki out of trouble?” Frigga asked.

“Ma’am, all of Asgard can’t do that and you know it,” Daimon said bluntly. “I’ll do all I can to keep him alive and mostly intact, but that’s the best promise you can get.”

“All of Asgard could promise no more,” Frigga agreed with a small smile. “Loki, thank you for ordering this drink for me, it’s quite nice.”

“Milkshakes are wonderful, unless you drink too quickly,” Loki said. “So, All-Mother, may I go?”

“You mean ‘will you explain this to Thor for me after the fact’,” Frigga corrected.

Daimon hooted, “Lady, you’ve got style! No wonder you’re able to keep this one in line!”

“He is Loki. ‘In line’ is the best you can hope for,” Frigga said as Loki pouted around his straw.

“Amen to that,” Daimon said. “Loki, you are hereby promoted from ‘bored godling’ to ‘sidekick’.”

“Yes!” Loki cheered. “Wait…I may keep my shirt on, yes?”

“Yes, you will,” Frigga said sternly.

.o.o.o.

“So, where are we going to go?” Loki asked as he entered Daimon’s motel room with his backpack full of random things he felt he might need. 

“First off: weapons check,” Daimon said. “Magic?”

“I can tap into the world’s innate magic with rituals, but I cannot cast spells, charms, or curses,” Loki said.

“Wards?” Daimon asked.

“I can do protective circles,” Loki said.

“Physical weapons?”

Loki tapped his two daggers. “The Lady Sif also recently gifted me with some darts.”

“Why?” Daimon asked.

“My own protection. She and the Warriors Three and Thor cannot be around at all times,” Loki said, shrugging. “They are slightly barbed and intended to slow someone down so I can run like hell.”

“Good plan. You’ve got a runner’s build,” Daimon said, shedding his trench coat and stretching out on one of the beds. “Anything else?”

“Well, it turns out the lady Kelda had forgiven me and gave me a pendant that warns of danger. She got the idea from her husband talking about Spider-Man,” Loki said. “Hogun gave me a sharpening stone, I’ve got a couple books, change of clothes…oh, and this!”

He proudly held up his Starkphone.

“Well, at least we’ll be able to keep in touch if we’re searching different places,” Daimon said, pulling out a flip phone. “Number?”

And thus began Loki’s mildly-illustrious career as Daimon Hellstrom’s sidekick.


	2. Devils in the Rockies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki enters his first case with Daimon. Will it be his last?

“So you think there are demons up here?” Loki asked as he and Daimon hiked up a low but steep mountain in southern Colorado. 

“Satanists, more likely. No serious demonic activity, so what we’re looking at is people trying to get the activity going,” Daimon said. 

“Ah. And what do we do with them?” Loki asked.

“Scare ‘em straight or send them down,” Daimon said. 

“Down? As in….down?” Loki checked.

“Ding,” Daimon said. 

“Oh. Do you know Mephisto?” Loki asked. “He’s peeved with me.”

“Yes and what the hell did you do, brat?” Daimon said, boosting Loki onto a higher ledge.

“Err, made him think I was still evil to get what I wanted out of him, gave him control of some demonic Valkyries which now serve Hela via my machinations…I think that’s it,” Loki said. “Oh, and got him in trouble with a mutant girl he liked.”

“Kid, you are a trouble magnet,” Daimon said, pulling himself up. “Birds of a feather, I guess.”

“So, what are we looking for?” Loki asked, fingering his daggers. 

“Right now, anything that shouldn’t be here—weird sigils, bursts of energy, evil chanting…”

“But not coyotes?” Loki asked, eyeing a small pack that seemed to have found them and was watching the duo.

“Stick close if you’re scared of them. Animals don’t like me—well, except for your mutt.”

“He turned out to be evil,” Loki admitted.

“Ah. Sorry to hear that,” Daimon said. 

The hike fell silent for a little while, Loki and Daimon too busy finding handholds on steeper parts and not slipping on the rest.

“Is that one?” Loki asked. The symbol looked like a rune…sort of.

“Amateur, but yeah,” Daimon said. “No power behind it, but it’s Moloch’s symbol.”

“So he’s one of the devils that’s real?” Loki asked.

“Yeah, and you’ll love this: he eats kids,” Daimon said.

“I had to decide to become a sidekick now,” Loki sighed dramatically. “All right, so we may have Moloch-Satanists on our hands. What do we do with them?”

“Get more information,” Daimon said. “See if any of them have had any actual contact with Moloch or any of his toadies. If they’re not doing anything harmful, we leave them. If they’re breaking mortal laws, we report them. And if they’re breaking immortal laws…well, you’ll see that eventually.”

“Ah,” Loki said. “If we are to inform authorities, should I do a ‘panicked young child’ routine?”

“We’ll see. Might come in handy,” Daimon said. “All right. This feels like the place I was sensing.”

The had come to a small plateau.

“Find somewhere unobtrusive to camp. We’ll stake them out after dark,” Daimon said. “I’m going to check around.”

Loki headed off towards a promising-looking rock formation. It looked like they could both comfortably hide inside if necessary.

Loki climbed up the rock in the front of the formation and looked down inside to see if there was room.

“DAIMON!”

Loki almost slipped from the rock as he fell, managing to catch himself before dropping all the way inside. He looked down again.

Upon closer inspection, what he thought had been dead babies were dolls, but they were splattered in what smelled like very real blood, blood that also formed symbols all through the inside of the formation.

Daimon was on the rock, “What, what—oh.”

“I think they’re all just dolls, but we’ll need to check,” Loki said. “And that blood seems real.”

Daimon sniffed. “It is.” He hauled Loki up onto one of the other tall rocks and summoned his trident, using it to sift through the dolls. “No real kids, though.”

“Well, maybe they think Moloch’s on a diet,” Loki said.

“Kid, you’re smart enough to know what effigies are,” Daimon said. “There’s names on these. They’re offering kid’s souls without killing the kids…”

“You think?” Loki asked. 

“Moloch would like some tasty souls. He usually just gets bodies, no souls. That’s Mephisto, Beelzebub, Hela, and others. Well, okay, Hela usually gets both and she’s not exactly evil, per say…you get what I’m saying, though?”

“So, are they promising the souls to him when they’re babies or kids or…what?” Loki asked.

“We’ll have to look up some of these names nearby. You got a signal on that phone?”

“A weak one, but yes,” Loki said. “The searching may take a while, but it should work.”

“All right,” Daimon said, hopping off the rocks. “Let’s head a bit south of here to camp. You do your data work and I’ll see if there’s anyone living in these parts.”

.o.o.o.

Loki continued going through the records he’d managed to find. A couple of the kids had been mentioned on news sites, falling into mysterious comas, but most were unlisted. 

Loki shuddered—if their souls were being eaten, they were probably never going to wake up…and it would be terrifying if they ever did. 

Daimon eventually came back with boots speckled red. “Found their slaughter ground. Mostly coyotes and goats. Occasional deer.”

“So…what do we do?” Loki asked. “I think whatever they’re doing is working, at least a little.” He showed Daimon the Starkphone. 

“Shit,” Daimon swore. “We’ll camp here tonight, and then we’re going to those hospitals. Might give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

.o.o.o.

The next night, Loki and Daimon broke into a Boulder hospital. 

“Does he seem…demonically affected?” Loki asked.

“I’m looking kid, don’t rush me,” Daimon said. “No thoughts, no spirit, but not brain dead…yup, there’s no soul in there.”

“So Moloch has it?” Loki asked, patting the kid’s hand. 

“It’s possible. We’ll have to see how those little rituals go to be sure,” Daimon said. 

“Spying on Satanists during a ritual seems…ill-advised,” Loki mused. “Then again, I’m the brat who double-crossed Mephisto. Lead on!”

.o.o.o.

“So, Mephisto said Satan’s throne is empty and has been for some time…how are you the ‘Son of Satan’?” Loki asked.

“Okay, get this—all the higher Hell-Lords put a bit of themselves into a demon that became my dad so there’d be enough Satan. Therefore all of them kind of have some parental claim,” Daimon said. “Apparently Dormammu’s my grandfather, too.”

“The evil fiery being Dr. Strange considers his mightiest foe?” Loki asked. “By the way, what is it with powerful villains and fire?”

“Don’t know. I like fire myself,” Hellstrom said, lighting a cigarette. 

“You’d better hope gods aren’t susceptible to second hand smoke,” Loki teased. “These sandwiches are good. Where did you get them?”

“Grocery store deli,” Daimon said. “And don’t think about touching the beer.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for giving a minor alcohol,” Loki said. 

“Ha-ha, brat,” Daimon said. “Wait…shh.”

Loki nodded—he’d heard it too. The duo crept towards the noise that was coming from near the bloodied rocks.

Daimon’s lips pursed as they watched he group. He put a finger down in the sand, wrote “Satanists” and crossed it out. 

Loki made a question mark.

Daimon wrote, “Cult. Some demonic influences. Watch leader.”

Loki did—it was an old man wearing a rather nice fedora. There were things that sounded cult-like enough, promises of “higher power” and “greater force” and “true paths” that nearly made Loki gag in their preachiness.

Daimon rapped him on the head and nodded as blood was used to re-paint Moloch’s symbol. Loki frowned, not knowing what he had planned, until two women pulled out a doll and Daimon leaped into view, demonic energy pouring off him.

“Moloch has heard you,” he said darkly. Loki rolled his eyes before seeing a little note in the dirt.   
“Get the doll.”

Loki scurried around the fringes of the group, wishing he knew some way to become invisible. Daimon kept his show going, pretending to be Moloch’s greatest emissary, as Loki crept closer and closer to the women and the doll. 

He could feel Daimon watching him from behind the sunglasses, and knew he had to move fast. His hand closed around the doll’s leg and he yanked.

“What?” one of the women said. 

“You should know better than to deal with demons,” Daimon said, stopping her from reaching Loki by making a circle of fire. “Now then…who got this little bunch going? I’m the Son of Satan, I could do with some damning.”

The fire flared and then died. Loki saw most of the group were unconscious, but there were some piles of ash about.

“Those were the damned,” Daimon said. “Rest are just the suckers of the cult. Should stop the sacrifices, though.”

“But how do we save the kids from Moloch?” Loki asked.

“That, little trickster, may be significantly more complicated,” Daimon said. “But it looks like ‘Thomas Luces’ has you to thank. Let’s take a second look at those dolls, and see what we’ve got.”

.o.o.o.

“Definite connection to hell, specifically Moloch’s part of it,” Daimon said, inspecting one doll. “I think some of these younger ones might have been the cult member’s own kids…bastards…”

“And I thought I’d seen lousy parenting,” Loki muttered as he flipped through a few occult texts Daimon had given him. “So, how do we retrieve the souls?”

“Moloch’s tough, he’s one of the oldest,” Daimon said. “We could probably get into his realm quietly through Hel if Hela’s in a good mood, otherwise we’d have to just bust in.”

“Busting in is probably not the way to go,” Loki agreed. 

“All right,” Daimon said. “Let’s go to Hel, kid.”


	3. Checkers is not how it's Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Daimon go right to Moloch to finish off their first joint mission!

“I thought I’d gotten rid of you,” Leah huffed. 

“It’s great to see you too, Leah! Look, I’m Daimon’s sidekick now!” Loki said. “And I haven’t been kidnapped or almost killed yet, either!”

“Lay off the e-comics,” Daimon told him.

“Oh, fine,” Loki said. “Anyway, we were wondering if Hela would let us use Hel to get to a Hell Lord’s domain—is that all right?”

“…I see you’re as suicidal as ever,” Leah said. “Follow.”

“This place looks happier than I thought,” Daimon mused.

“Lady Hela was recently married,” Leah said. “The Hel-Valkyries haven’t taken down all the decorations yet.”

“How’s Tyr taking to marriage?” Loki asked. 

“Loki, no small talk,” Leah huffed.

“Okay,” Loki muttered, folding his arms. 

“Come on, give him a break—he’s missed you,” Daimon said. 

Leah sighed and waved for Loki to talk. He proceeded to do so until they were almost directly before Hela and Tyr, mostly about simple, kiddie things and nothing to do with the mission. 

“Loki,” Hela drawled. “And a guest.”

“Hello, Hela,” Loki said sheepishly. “We are most sorry to intrude, but we were hoping to ask the smallest of favors from you.”

“Leah is not to leave Helhiem, Loki,” Hela said sharply.

“All…right…” Loki said. “But may we please pass through Helhiem to get to…what’s it called?”

“Moloch’s place doesn’t exactly have a name,” Daimon said. 

“Well, there,” Loki said, shrugging. “We have business.”

“Hopefully this business won’t snowball like your last business did,” Leah said.

“It probably should not,” Loki said glancing at Daimon. 

“It won’t,” the Son of Satan confirmed. “I just need to chat with the guy.”

“Then you would go directly,” Hela said.

“You do recall that she has quite a bit of experience with the past me, yes?” Loki asked. 

“He took the souls of some kids who aren’t actually dead,” Daimon said. “I need to chat with him about that.”

“And you wish to use Helhiem as a backdoor,” Hela said. “Lovely.”

“Look, yes or no?” Daimon asked.

“Directness may not be the best thing,” Loki cautioned.

“Or at the very least brashness,” Hela said. “You will not tell Moloch of how you entered his realm.”

“Of course not,” Loki said. “We will say we came through Daimon’s, naturally.”

“And why didn’t you?” Hela asked.

“Because I need something else,” Loki said. “Something I think you will like very much.”

.o.o.o.

“So this is Moloch’s realm. Ick,” Loki commented as they continued through. 

“The guy’s all about the sacrifices,” Daimon said, casually blasting a fiend that got too close. “Of course it reeks.”

“I see,” Loki said. “Now, what is your plan?”

“Don’t you have one?” Daimon asked.

“Oh, yes, but as the sidekick, I must defer to you,” Loki said. 

“I plan to go in there and make him cough up those souls,” Daimon said, his trident materializing. 

“…Can you do that?” Loki asked.

“If I can’t, we’ll defer to your plan. Which is?”

“A bet,” Loki said. “Moloch is generally known to have issues regarding Mephisto, and there is no soul Mephisto currently wants more than mine.”

“So Moloch would want you to show him up,” Daimon said. “And how will you win?”

“I’d rather not say,” Loki said. 

“You don’t know.”

“No. I’d simply rather not tell you,” Loki said. “Is that him?”

“Yup. Big Ugly himself,” Daimon said, striding towards the gargantuan demon on the black throne. “Hello, Moloch.”

“The Spawn of Satan,” the demon greeted, blood dripping from his grotesquely huge mouth. “and a snack.”

“Touch the kid and the next thing you eat will be your own intestines,” Daimon said flatly. “Of course, I might do that anyway if you don’t free those souls you got from your crazed followers in the Rockies.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Moloch asked, still hungrily eyeing Loki.

“Daniele Johnson, Marcus Tripps, Abigail Brenson, Dick and Jason Drake, Aberforth Adams, and Katie and Jessie Middleford,” Daimon said stonily.

“Ah…perhaps for a better meal?” Moloch asked.

“You’re not eating my sidekick, you’re giving up the kids,” Daimon said.

“Of course, one can see why you’d like to eat me,” Loki said, seeing this was going nowhere. “After all, who wouldn’t want to dine on the soul of the little godling Mephisto hates above all?”

“Ah…little Loki,” Moloch chuckled.

“Sadly, as I am such a fine meal, I am clearly equal to all eight,” Loki said. “Do you gamble, Moloch?”

“Kid,” Daimon said warningly as Moloch looked rather interested.

“How about it?” Loki said. “Winner gets the souls. Hell’s most-wanted kid for those eight you’ve got.”

“Be careful,” Daimon warned. “Moloch’s not at deal-happy as Mephisto…”

“Do you accept?” Loki asked, ignoring Daimon and giving Moloch his most winning grin.

Moloch reclined on his throne. “And how shall this battle proceed, little one? A game of wits would fall to you, and a game of strength to me.”

“Then perhaps a third sort of game is in order,” Loki said. “One which requires no mediator or outside influence, as it is designed for two warring sides.”

“Go on,” Moloch said. Daimon was giving Loki a worried look—what could the kid possibly come up with that would work to his favor without Moloch noticing?

“Grand. I suggest a most excellent mortal game,” Loki said. “It is known as checkers!”

“Don’t you mean chess?” Daimon asked quietly.

“Oh no, checkers is far more appropriate for this situation,” Loki said. “You’ll see. Would you like to familiarize yourself with the rules, Moloch?”

“I know them well enough, boy,” the demon said. “Let the game begin.”

.o.o.o.

Checkers. _Checkers._ Daimon wanted to smack the kid. 

Not only was it way too up in the air for his liking, but really? Checkers for fate? Everyone knew you used chess or cards. There were rules for these things…somewhere…

Loki and Moloch seemed to be about equal at the game. Moloch wasn’t the craftiest of demons, but this wasn’t exactly the hardest of games. 

Daimon thought back to Loki’s comment on the rules…was there some bizarre rule Loki was going to invoke? Or was the kid just trying to set Moloch at ease?

“Damn,” Loki sighed as Moloch took three of his pieces in a single jump. 

“That is the intent, small one,” Moloch said, barring his bloody teeth. 

“Uh huh,” Loki said, making a move.

“Loki, he can take that!” Daimon hissed.

“Huh?” Loki asked, his hand sliding off the piece. “Daimon! You distracted me!”

“Tempting,” Moloch said.

“Required,” Loki admitted. “If you have a possible jump, you have to take it.”

Moloch jumped the piece with a smirk. “King me, boy.”

“All right,” Loki said. “Oh, and…” He calmly hopped five of Moloch’s pieces and got to the end of the board. “Me too!”

“You set me up,” Moloch snarled.

“You said you knew the rules,” Loki said. 

Moloch went to stand, only for Daimon to tap his trident on the ground. “You agreed to the game, Moloch. For your own sake, keep playing.”

“Wretched half-breed,” Moloch huffed, moving. 

Loki took two more pieces, “Ooh, another king!”

“Kid, we had a deal on mocking,” Daimon hissed.

“That wasn’t mocking, it was factual and informative,” Loki said. 

With a second king at his disposal, the rest of the game was quick work. “I think I win.”

Moloch ground his teeth. “You little bastard.”

“Well, yes, to my knowledge Laufey wasn’t the marrying type—Daimon, do you suppose he’s down here somewhere?” Loki asked. 

“The souls, Moloch,” Daimon said, swinging his trident to the demon’s neck. “A deal is a deal.”

“Should have gotten it in writing,” Moloch snarled.

Loki picked up his Starkphone and pressed play. 

_“So, how about it? Winner gets the souls. Hell’s most-wanted kid for those eight you’ve got.”_  
 _“Be careful, Moloch’s not at deal-happy as Mephisto…”_  
 _“Do you accept?”_  
 _“And how shall this battle proceed, little one? A game of wits would fall to you, and a game of strength to me.”_  
 _“Then perhaps a third sort of game is in order. One which requires no mediator or outside influence, as it is designed for two warring sides.”_  
 _“Go on.”_

“I can play more,” Loki offered. “And I sent the entire file to Leah of Hel so Hela herself now has proof of this transaction.”

“You pickpocketed my phone” Daimon asked. "You little brat..."

“Yep,” Loki said. “Our deal?”

Moloch roared. 

“Let him get it out of his system,” Daimon advised.

The demon slumped. “You win this round, trickster. But be warned—you now have more than one enemy in Hell…and only a single ally.” The eight orbs returned. “Return to your homes, small things. Pray I do not claim you again.”

“Thank you for your business,” Daimon said. “Come on, kid, I’m getting drunk and you’re getting to go to a candy store.”

.o.o.o.

_Dear All-Mother, Thor, and anyone else who cares:_  
 _I have been having a grand time as a sidekick. Daimon and I broke up an evil cult and saved eight kids’ souls from Moloch. Daimon said I need to think about what I challenge demons to—apparently checkers doesn’t meet the unspoken standards. Hey, I won, right?_  
 _Leah, Hela, and Tyr say ‘hi’. Hela’s rooting for the All-Mother by the way; I think Dani Moonstar has introduced her to feminism. How is that political stuff going, anyhow?_  
 _PS: I have found fudge is good in lieu of milkshakes, for those who dislike brain-freeze._  
 _Hugs and mischief,_  
 _Loki_  



	4. Supremely Sorcerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daimon collects on Super Bowl bets and Loki helps save Dr. Strange! All in a day's work!

"So, what are we going to do tonight, Brain?"

Daimon glared over his coffee, "I introduce you to great American animation and this is how you thank me?"

"It kept me out of your hair so you could go to a bar and get very drunk, yes?" Loki asked happily.

"All right then, Pinky, tonight we're going to rent a motel room and I'm going to watch the Super Bowl and you can look for interesting-looking things on your phone that we can investigate later," Daimon said.

"No. The room must have two televisions—I have heard good things from Volstagg's children about a 'puppy bowl' of much cuteness," Loki said.

"Fine, I've got some cash from a couple exorcisms…you want popcorn?"

"I prefer chips, actually."

"Fine, but if you say you don't like soda this will be a short career for you," Daimon warned.

.o.o.o.

"How was your bowl?" Daimon asked.

"The puppies were excellently cute and the narrator clearly went the extra mile to make it sound like they were genuinely playing a game of football," Loki said. "You?"

"Won some bets. Need to head into New York City to collect," Daimon said. "First team to make touchdown, worst injury of the night, who wins, and my personal favorite: hair color of most of the halftime show performers."

"Why?" Loki asked.

"Because Spider-Man and Captain America both made sure Iron Man couldn't cheat by looking up the celebrities, but forgot to keep tabs on me," Daimon said.

"…That's why you had me googling all those celebrities on the way to Colorado?" Loki huffed. "Inform me when I am involved in a scam, please, I'm trying to better my reputation."

"I can leave you here for the day. Want to go to New York or not?" Daimon asked, starting on a teleportation sigil.

"New York, of course!" Loki said.

.o.o.o.

"Loki, how do our finances look?" Daimon asked.

"Well, you got fifty dollars from Captain America; twenty from Spider-Man; twenty-five from Hawkeye, Valkyrie, and Iron Man each; five each from Johnny Storm, Spider-Woman, Wolverine, three members of the Young Avengers, and the Prowler; and one hundred from Deadpool, who also gave me ten bucks for 'beating continuity' of something or other," Loki said. "All in all, ten short of three-hundred."

"We still have one more stop," Daimon said. "Dr. Strange owes me twenty. And that ten is yours kid. So I made three hundred and you made ten…good day."

"I still want to know why that man gave me money," Loki said as they got off the subway.

"He's Deadpool. Don't try to figure him out," Daimon said. "Hell Lords are all fighting over who has to take him when he finally kicks it and ends up on their side of things—of course, that's only if Thanos removes the immortality curse because the man is in love with Death, but hey-"

"How do you know that?" Loki asked.

"Loki, I own a Hell-Dimension. I get to hear their gossip—and if human gossip is bad, demons and gods and titans are amazingly worse," Daimon said.

"…How do you fall in love with Death? I mean, a goddess of the dead like Hela, maybe, but…what?" Loki asked as Daimon led him up some steps. "Death is a—a concept!"

"I told you kid, don't even try," Daimon said, knocking on the door. An Asian man opened it. "Hey Wong. The Doc owes me money, he in?"

"Daimon Hellstrom," Wong greeted. "And Loki, it seems."

"Loki it is!" Loki said brightly.

"I have a sidekick now. Cool, huh?" Daimon asked.

"Let us hope you do not expose him to too much debauchery," Wong said, letting them in.

"I'm from Asgard. Daimon can't even top half of them at getting drunk," Loki said.

"Watch your mouth," Daimon said.

"Dr. Strange set aside your twenty," Wong said, handing over an envelope. "I'm afraid he's rather busy at the moment."

"Well, shit. Was going to ask him if he had any magic books pipsqueak here could use," Daimon said.

"Now who needs to watch their mouth?" Loki huffed.

"By the Hoary Hosts of Horgoth!"

"…That's bad, right?" Daimon asked dryly.

"Yes," Wong said as the trio hurried up a staircase.

"I'll suppose the thing in the Black Forest will have to wait," Loki murmured, pulling out his phone and delaying the event.

Daimon swore very loudly as they neared the room, but Wong did not scold him this time.

"Oh my," Loki said as the very room they entered seemed to radiate energy. "Err, what are those?"

"Well, to be perfectly frank they're lesser fiends that serve Dormammu," Daimon said. "A shitload of them."

"Are you going to stand or fight?" Wong asked, taking a bo staff off a rack.

"Fight, of course!" Loki said, drawing his daggers.

"Remember, I have to keep you mostly intact," Daimon warned, incinerating two of the fiends as he summoned his trident. "In the mood for help Doc…wait, what?"

"Fire makes them stronger!" Doctor Strange huffed, blasting away some more.

"Oops," Daimon said as Loki re-sheathed one dagger, grabbed a platter, and clapped a fiend over the head with it before slitting its throat. "Nice one, kid." He whipped the trident around, giving them some room.

"It'd be nicer if we could disperse them quickly!" Loki said.

"No good, more will take their place," Doctor Strange said. "We must find how they are entering our dimension—should they rip a hole large enough, Dormammu himself may come through!"

"All right, I'm about to declare the the world almost ends twice a week at this point!" Loki said, bashing another two demons on the head so Daimon could spear them.

"Pessimistic, but fairly correct," Wong admitted. "Does either of you see a point of entry?"

"What sort of portal do you need for the fire-head's dimension again?" Daimon asked. "I don't quite remember…" He whacked one fiend back, right into Loki's swishing dagger.

"High power, highly concentrated, low energy once activated," Dr. Strange said. "Loki, left!"

Loki used the platter as a shield and the doctor blasted his attacker away. "Anything else? There's a lot of magic flying around in here!"

"I'm afraid not," Wong admitted.

"Oh you have got to be—would they poof in the same general area or something?" Loki tried. "You know, give a certain radius for us to work with—oh my!" He ducked and hopped up onto the back of a couch, precariously balancing. He sheathed his other dagger and pulled out the darts. "Can we please have a plan, people?"

"You're the trickster, you do it!" Daimon grunted, getting into a brief tug-of-war over his trident with two fiends before Wong helped him out.

"All right," Loki said, nailing one fiend in the eye. "They disperse if enough energy or pain is applied, more take their place, the number seems to stay fairly constant…perhaps they appear only at the speed we" he cracked another in the face with the platter, "get rid of them, but then someone would likely boost the portal's abilities which would give an energy spike and let us find it, unless of course—get back, you!—they cannot because it is not a portal but something allowing a specific number to manifest! I am brilliant!"

"Say what?" Daimon called.

Loki gulped—he'd hopped a bit far from the group. "Don't disperse them, just bind them! The number will remain constant to wear us down!"

Doctor Strange quickly summoned glowing ropes and Wong snatched ties off the curtains, giving some to Daimon. Soon the fiends were bound and Loki could have a look about.

"All right, what sort of thing allows a certain number of manifestations…" Loki mused.

"An enchanted object." Doctor Strange pushed a desk aside to reveal a glowing gem. "This should be dealt with easily enough. It seems this was merely an annoyance, not one of Dormammu's break-into-this-universe plots."

"Hey, wearing you down is probably a first step in tones of those," Daimon said.

"It was a good plan," Strange agreed. "Luckily we has a clever planner on this side as well."

Loki rubbed his arm, "Just…doing my job."

"You do it well, young one," the Sorcerer Supreme stated. "Thank you for helping, Daimon. Ordinarily you'd have taken the twenty and left."

"Ordinarily I don't have a pestering, never-shuts-up sidekick," Daimon replied.

"If I'm your conscience we might have problems," Loki said.

Doctor Strange laughed, "Well, you have both done good today. May I offer you a room for the night?"

"Sure," Daimon said. "We're going to be doing some saving if Loki says the next big stop is the Black Forest of Germany. Free room is nice."

"If Loki says?" Wong asked.

"Hey, life's easier when the sidekick finds the jobs for you," Daimon said.

"This better mean I can add secretary to my resume!" Loki said.

"You can put it under schemer, realm-saver, and snarky brat," Daimon offered.


	5. Nightmares in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's afoot and Daimon's not going to be happy about it as we get a glimpse of a new villain...

“Ooh, look, a ward that blocks demons,” Loki said happily, taking a picture of the page with his phone. “And substitute reagents too!”

“He had to give you library access,” Daimon grumbled over the chatter.

“Hey, if money’s a problem you should be happy I’m finding a substitute for ground silver,” Loki shot back. “And ground gold…saffron…why do spells always want expensive stuff?”

“Because the wizards of old were greedy pricks,” Daimon replied, flipping through a newspaper.

“Why is saffron so expensive anyway?” Loki wondered. “It’s a plant, right?”

“Google it,” Daimon said. “And can it; I’m reading about idiot politicians.”

Loki sighed and continued flipping through the books for useful things within his abilities, taking notes on his phone for things to stock up on. He only had ten dollars, but Daimon had promised him a cut of all paying jobs so more expensive things could come later…

Salt and peppermint were easy, he could get them from a dollar store. He could probably get rice as a flax substitute there as well. Powdered iron would be harder…maybe he could get a small hunk of iron and a strong file at some point…

.o.o.o.

_Hush child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep_

Loki frowned and tossed in his bed, his covers falling to the floor as the thrashing worsened.

_Child, the darkness will rise from the deep_

One free hand clawed at the air as Loki started breathing our half-formed swears. 

_And carry you down-_

Daimon sat up at the noise and glanced over to see his charge thrashing wildly and muttering angry- and Norse-sounding phrases. “Loki!”

Loki froze, his eyes opening, “Wha…huh?”

“You all right?” Daimon asked.

Loki nodded. “I feel fine. A little cold—oh.” He pulled his comforter off the floor. “Why?”

“You were thrashing like someone set you on fire, and muttering weird shit,” Daimon said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Wasn’t dreaming or anything, if that’s what you mean,” Loki yawned. “Probably just stress from the fiend-fighting.”

Daimon’s eyes narrowed, but her nodded and went back to bed. 

Loki curled back up and was soon fast asleep. The second Daimon was sure he got back up and watched Loki.

_Guileless son, I’ll shape your belief_

Daimon’s eyes narrowed—something was happening. Theoretically speaking the Sanctum Sanctorum was one of the safest buildings in the world…in practice it was a huge target for evil sorcerers. He tried to focus on what was affecting Loki.

_And you’ll always know that your father’s a thief, and you won’t understand the cause of your grief_

Daimon frowned as Loki started spouting the weird stuff again. He’d have to brush up on his old Norse at this rate…

_But you’ll always follow the voices beneath…_

Daimon’s eyes widened as he heard something…something talking, or singing more like, about voices for some reason. 

Something that wasn’t Loki. 

_Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty,_

“What are you?” Daimon hissed, preparing a minor exorcism to get this thing out of his sidekick’s head.

_Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me_

“Believe me, the kid’s loyalty is harder to get than with just a serenade,” Daimon huffed, sending a pulse of energy through Loki who yelped and fell out of bed. 

“Daimon! It’s been what, fifteen minutes?” Loki complained.

Daimon ignored him. The voice had stopped. “Loki, are you absolutely certain you weren’t dreaming?”

“…Well, when you put it like that maybe I was and don’t remember. You seem rather certain I was,” Loki replied.

Daimon frowned. Whatever or whoever it was, they weren’t doing jack while Loki was awake. “Remember when I used you to get into those nightmares?”

“Yes,” Loki said.

“Good,” Daimon said. “Because now I’m going into yours. Go back to sleep.”

.o.o.o.

_Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me_

“Screw that,” Daimon huffed. For a kid who did a lot of thinking, Loki’s mind was pretty darn blank except for the music someone had left on. “Brat, you in here or what?”

“Depends on what you mean by here.”

Daimon whirled. “You!”

It was the old Loki…and a different kid…and a blue kid…and another older Loki…

“Who the fuck are you?” Daimon demanded, his trident materializing. 

_Guileless son, your spirit will hate her_

“We’re Loki,” the boy who wasn’t his Loki said. “Almost all of him.”

“Except for the one I know,” Daimon surmised.

“Exactly,” a female Loki—okay, that was odd—said. “All of Loki stays with Loki, no matter what.”

“But in the back of the mind, the darkened depths,” one of the adult males said. “Thanks to a little finagling, anyway.”

“Me an’ him get out to play,” the blue kid said, nodding at the other kid. “He remembers us better. But the older lot don’t get much.”

_The flower who married my brother the traitor_

“So you’re all the different incarnations of Loki?” Daimon asked. “From…different points in his life? And will someone turn off the damn music?”

“The, ah, ‘music’ is the problem,” another adult said. “It seems to have latched onto the very worst of us, you see.”

“So one of you is far worse than the others?” Daimon guessed.

“He’s not here right now, but yeah,” the blue kid said. 

“Why?” Daimon asked.

“He’s not the worst of us on, say, an evil scale as a mortal might say,” the female Loki said. “But he has the most breaking memories.”

_And you will expose his puppeteer behavior_

“Memories?” Daimon said.

“The kind he only looks at if he likes,” one man said. “But these are ones he never looks at.”

“Because he knows what it would do,” the female said.

“So if you want to save the brat, and by proxy us,” a Loki with a long cloak said. “Then you will get your ass out of the subconscious and into the dreaming!”

Daimon’s world spun before he was dropped onto a plateau. 

_For you are the proof of how he betrayed her loyalty…_

“Again with the loyalty,” Daimon snarled. “Loyalty…breaking memories…” His eyes widened. “Broken loyalty.”

He headed to where he thought Loki was—since this was a dream that would most likely be right. Sure enough he found the boy standing stone still. 

“Loki finally—what the,” Daimon said.

Loki’s mouth was sewn shut and his eyes were missing. Blood dripped from his lips, but the sockets were just empty voids.

“You’d have to be seeing something, seeing the memory,” Daimon muttered, trying to cut the thread. “So why no eyes…or can you still see me? Or only what our singing pal wants you to see? Hey, kid, I’m right here! React, damn it!”

_Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty,_

“Shut up!” Daimon roared.

“But it was a joke!” a voice similar to Loki’s cried. “It was just a—ah!”

Daimon snarled, if he couldn’t see it, how was he supposed to help? Loki couldn’t tell him, the stupid thread wouldn’t cut and…

Lips sewn shut. Old Norse.

_Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me_

The prank with Sif’s hair. He vaguely knew the story, and if those extra angry voices included Thor’s…

Broken trust. Broken loyalties.

The last straw for the first time around. 

_Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep_

“Loki, that was a long time ago!” Daimon yelled, shaking him. “Snap out of it! Your brother wouldn’t do that now! You love each other too damn much!”

_Child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep_

**“I SAID SHUT UP!”** Daimon bellowed, a circle of hellfire surrounding him and Loki. “You want the kid, come and get him from me, you hear?”

_Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me_

“He doesn’t owe you anything!” Daimon snapped. “Hell, he doesn’t owe anyone anything, at this point! He just saved the world and most of Asgard is fine with treating him like shit anyway!”

The Loki with him started to stir. 

“Kid!” Daimon said. “Come on, kid, snap out of it.”

Loki started pawing at the threads. 

“It’s not real. We’re in your head. You can see too, if you want,” Daimon said.

_Guileless son, each day you grow older, each moment I’m watching my vengeance unfold_

“Don’t listen to that idiot!” Daimon said. “Did you have to listen to The Serpent? Or Surtur?”

Eyelids blinked, green eyes appearing behind them. Lips opened, the thread binding them vanishing. 

“Took you awhile,” Loki muttered dazedly. “Keep the fire up, it’s nice…”

“How about we drown the party crasher out?” Daimon asked.

Loki smirked slightly and his phone and a set of speakers appeared. Daimon laughed as a loud Japanese pop song blared through the dream world. 

For a second Daimon saw the other Loki, a teenager with his mouth sewn shut and his eyes full of angry pain, but in the next he was gone, presumably back with the others. “How long’s your dream playlist?”

“Long,” Loki said. “Why?”

“Because we’re talking about this when you wake up,” Daimon said as he left the dream.

.o.o.o.

“So the whole mouth-sewing thing happened?” Daimon asked as he and Loki got ready to get some breakfast and then leave the good doctor’s hospitality. 

“Several times in several lives,” Loki replied. “That was…the bad one. As much as I can tell.”

“Comparatively speaking, I take it?” Daimon added.

“Yes. I cut the Lady Sif’s hair in jealousy over many things. Thor and the Warriors Three caught me and chased me and called me many things. Then I got the new hair form the dwarves and got my mouth sewn shut. No thank-you, no ‘oh, does that hurt?’ And then the hair turned black and I followed it, especially that time.”

“You got beat up?” Daimon asked. “After going through all that trouble?”

Loki shrugged, “I said it was the bad one, did I not?”

“Thor wouldn’t hurt you now.”

“I know,” Loki said. “He loves me, and I love him. It just…hurts. And someone wanted to use that hurt.”

“We’ll find them,” Daimon promised. “No one’s going to control you, kid. Not while I’m around.”

Loki smiled weakly as they began to pack up.

Daimon frowned, "Do you know what the music was doing, anyway?"

"Drowning," Loki said quietly. "Drowning me down so something else could be in my place."

"Guess no on knows you're traveling with a professional exorcist," Daimon said, clapping the kid on the shoulder. "Now, what was that mission in Germany, again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the song used in this chapter, however I cannot tell you what it i as it is a hint to who the villain is.  
> The other Lokis are: his kid-jotun self, his former kid self, various adult and teen Lokis from various lifetimes, Lady Loki, and the Loki that died during Seige/Ikol.


	6. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Daimon make it to the Black Forest...and wish they hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bold text is German**

“Germany’s supposedly chilly right now,” Loki commented. “And yet you still lack a shirt.”

“I don’t get cold, brat,” Daimon said. “You?”

“Same. Half-Frost Giant, you know,” Loki said. 

“Squirt like you? Please,” Daimon huffed as they entered the motel. **“What do you have with two beds? My little brother’s a bed wetter.”**

“Don’t try to insult me in German, I speak plenty of languages, you know,” Loki hissed. **“He’s lying. Just worried he’ll want to bring someone home, if you get my drift, ma’am.”**

The manager rolled her eyes at their antics, **“Any other amenities?”**

Daimon glanced around, clearly wondering if the seedy location even had amenities. **“A working bathroom. Otherwise we’re good.”**

**“Thirty euros a night for the room.”**

 **“Fair enough,”** Daimon muttered, digging his recently-converted money out. **“Two nights should do it. When would I need to tell you if we want to extend it?”**

**“Morning of the night you want to extend it to,” the woman said. “Room 9.”**

.o.o.o.

“All right kid, let’s go over what we know about the issue,” Daimon said. “We’ll head over an hour before sunset.”

“There have been quite a few mysterious attacks around that small historic church at the edge of the forest that we passed on the way here. The attacks began about a week ago,” Loki said. “The local minister and the groundskeepers have offered a five hundred euro reward for information, or in our case, stopping the thing. Apparently it’s a major tourist and religious destination.”

“Little over six-fifty US,” Daimon said. “Decent for a couple nights’ work.”

“What are our overall finances?” Loki asked, pulling up an app on his phone. 

“I’ve got cash and collateral that equal about ten grand, not counting stuff from Hell which I’d really rather not give normal people, as well as some collateral back with allies in the states, and you have…six bucks now?”

“Yes, four went to dollar-store reagents,” Loki agreed. 

Daimon nodded, “Pretty sound for this line of work. Okay, ideas on the attacks?”

“No fatalities as of yet, though the victims are clearly quite traumatized and some appear to have been violated in varying ways,” Loki said, flicking through news articles on his phone, “There have been two attempted police stings that resulted in nothing. Most of the victims are in various hospitals that also provide psychological care…”

“General injuries?” Daimon asked, leaning over his shoulder. 

“Lacerations, blunt force trauma, psychological damage…and our attacker seems to have watched Evil Dead for various victims…”

“You know Evil Dead?”

“Volstagg would only let Reggie and Derk go see it at a Halloween screening if I went as a chaperone,” Loki said. “…So instead he had three freaked out kids instead of two. I think the paper misprinted the rating.”

“Yikes,” Daimon chuckled. “Okay, so, looking at ‘when trees attack’ here?”

“Vines,” Loki said. “Ivy or ivy-like. And I think this is from a rosebush…” He showed the image to Daimon.

Daimon’s eyes went wide behind his sunglasses. “Damn. On second thought, let’s go. I’m going to want a look at those plants.”

The walk was quick, neither Daimon nor Loki particularly accustomed to simply strolling but instead hurrying between point A and point B.

“Nice looking place,” Loki noted. “I’d say…seventeen hundreds?”

“Late fifteen, little one,” the minister said, opening the door. “One of the oldest established Lutheran churches, built by the hands of an entire village. It’s also now a historical landmark which, sadly, given the current circumstances, tends to draw many people.”

“Lutherans believe in exorcism?” Daimon asked. 

“If all other options have proved fruitless, then yes,” the minister said. “I am Gilbert and the groundskeepers are Wilhelm and Martin. I’m afraid Martin does not speak very much English-”

 **“We speak German,”** Daimon said. 

Gilbert nodded, “Well, we’ve hired you first as a supernatural investigator, and as an exorcist second. If we can be of any help…”

“Other than closing off the grounds?” Daimon asked.

“They have been closed,” a large man said, coming in with a how over his back. “Folks come in anyway, lured by the ghost stories I’d wager. Gilbert, Martin and I can’t get rid of those vines-”

“Vines!” Loki said. “Oh, show us! We believe vines may be a key part of this mystery!”

“Let me finish with the minister, Loki,” Daimon said. “Ah, Wilhelm, was it? Let him look at the vines, but don’t let him get all grabby or anything.”

“Grabby…ah, don’t let him touch them, yes,” Wilhelm said. 

“How long have you worked here?” Loki asked.

“Twenty years,” Wilhelm said. “I’ve always loved masonry and working with plants. Plus it’s nice to know the history.”

“Then this was clearly a most excellent vocational choice,” Loki said. “If we cannot find anything, perhaps we should rig some way to keep people off the grounds after dark…”

“Martin’s already on it. Gilbert ordered some barbed wire form the city,” Wilhelm said. “So…you that Loki?”

“Not anymore,” Loki said.

“I’ll never understand you supers. Still, if you’re helping, you’re helping,” Wilhelm said, clapping Loki on the shoulder. “Here we go. Covered up three graves by now. Creeping on some of the other, too.”

 **“I’m ready to break out a flamethrower, myself,”** Martin huffed, coming up with a massive roll of barbed fencing dragging behind him. 

**“If you do, can I watch?”** Loki asked eagerly. 

**“Martin, don’t encourage delinquency. See if you can find my axe in the shed,”** Wilhelm said. “Well, kid?”

“It’s not a normal plant, but you probably figured that,” Loki said, giving the vines a bit of a berth. “Seems to be growing in an odd pattern…what grave did it cover first?”

“Lars Schmidt. Then his brother Olaf’s and Olaf’s wife Petra’s,” Wilhelm said. “Now it’s getting on the Biel’s graves. Looks like Tom and Roderick are going to be covered by tomorrow…” 

Loki hummed as he put the names into his phone. “And have you or Martin had any issues with the plants, other than not being able to remove them?”

“Thorns are sharp and sting like mad,” Wilhelm said. “And it’s not so much that we can’t rip it out as that it regrows too fast.”

“That is odd,” Loki said, cutting a small bit with one of his daggers and inspecting it. “Looks like here’s some magic in its vein structure. See the glowing bits?”

“Loki!” Daimon called. “Get over here! We’re going to get started!”

“Wonder what he thought I was doing,” Loki quipped.

“Good luck, kid,” Wilhelm said.

 **“Godspeed,”** Martin added, having returned with the axe.

.o.o.o.

“All right, this isn’t based in demonic activity, but it is a curse so we can still probably do something about it,” Daimon told Gilbert. We’re going to hang around the grounds tonight. Any chance of one of you staying in the church?”

“We all live here,” Gilbert replied.

“Good. Loki, come on, let’s get a perimeter,”

“Right,” Loki said, hopping off the pew he’d taken brief residence in, still working on his phone. 

“Anything on the affected graves?” Daimon asked.

“That’s a no,” Loki said.

“What kind of a secretary are you?”

Loki stuck his tongue out, “The kind who’d like to remind you that this is a very rural town and most of those people died before Facebook.”

“Brat.”

“Demon.”

“Half, but close,” Daimon chuckled. “List the names for me, maybe I’ll get lucky and see something.”

“Have you been here before?”

“No, but maybe I have a demon-sense about this.”

“Like Hel you do,” Loki scoffed, listing the names. “Odin’s beard.”

“What about old one-eye?” Daimon asked.

“The first names—their first letters spell something,” Loki said, showing him the phone. 

“Loptr?” Daimon asked. “Sounds like a demon rabbit. Something you know about, kid?”

“Daimon…Loptr is another way of saying ‘Loki’,” Loki said quietly. 

“What?” Daimon asked sharply. “How can this possibly be about you? Do you know anyone in Germany?”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Loki said. 

“Tenebrae surgit ab alto.”

“Who was that?” Daimon hissed, smoke starting to come off of his hands. 

“I think we know my mystery stalker,” Loki said, sounding choked. “Tenebrae surgit ab alto means ‘the darkness will rise from the deep’ in Latin.”

“And they’re using it as a…spell,” Daimon snarled as the churchyard went pitch black right as he clamped a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Kid, text the minister and tell all three to stay inside.”

Loki fumbled for his phone, the light on the screen barely enough to light their faces in the darkness. “I can’t tell if this is an illusion or simply an elemental summoning.”

“What I what to know is what idiot uses Latin these days,” Daimon scoffed. “Medieval wen out of style a millennium ago!”

“Mid…Daimon…remember when you helped me with the Otherworld?” Loki asked shakily.

“The Brit legends, right?” Daimon asked, forming a circle of fire at their feet for some visibility. “Yeah. Got you and Leah the explosives.”

“So you were complicit,” came the voice from the shadows.

“Okay, you how yourself in the next five seconds before I just decide to up and murder you!” Daimon snapped. 

“Can you not taunt the opponent? Especially when they seem to be winning?” Loki hissed.

“That from you? Priceless,” Daimon said dryly, scanning the darkness. 

“It’s a woman,” Loki said, thinking on the voice. “Not the Grail-keeper, not Guinevere, I’ve heard both of them, not the Faerie Queen either…”

“Loki…who’s England’s big sorceress legend?” Daimon asked, having clearly puzzled it out himself.

“Morgana le Fey,” Loki breathed as a redheaded woman became visible. 

“So good of you to notice,” she said. 

“What do you want with my sidekick?” he snarled. “You’re doing this, you went after his dreams at Strange’s place-”

“You weren’t coming fast enough,” Morgana said. 

“Actually, Germany had been our next stop,” Daimon said. “So really all you did was piss me off more than I would have been.”

“I don’t care much for you, Hellstrom, you were merely the boy’s instrument in harming the Otherworld,” Morgana said. “Give him to me and I will let you go.”

“Thing about demonic blood, it kind of makes a guy possessive,” Daimon said, his grip on Loki’s shoulder tightening. “How about instead you leave the kid alone and I don’t turn you to ash?”

“We have no interest in leaving Loki alone,” Morgana said, many glowing-eyed imps appearing behind her as the strange vines rose. 

“Daimon, we’re going to need a bigger fire,” Loki gulped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movie rating thing is based off a childhood incident of mine whereupon the local paper said Wild Wild West was rated PG and my mother and a friend's mom took two seven year olds (one me) and a five year old. We got dragged out around the hypno-bra scene.


	7. Chapter 7's Cover

 

This is essentially the comic cover I made for chapter 7. Enjoy!

Yes, that's how Loki had been wearing his hair this whole time, excluding when his hood is up.


	8. The Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki eventually comes up with a plan to stop Morgana...but what will the consequences be?

 “What say you now, Hellstrom?” Morgana asked. “Give me the boy and you may as of yet go free.”

 “Are you not merciful?” Daimon huffed. “Fun fact, witch. Plants? They burn.”

 He swung his trident, sending a wave of fire at Morgana and her forces. Morgana vanished, but several of the imps and and vines caught fire, lighting the surrounding blackness with its inferno. “Kid, eyes. Tell me where she’s popping up!”

 “You’re acting like I can see more than you!” Loki retorted.

 “Then look where I’m not looking you pain in the neck!”

 “Already doing it!”

 “Then why did you say—oh never mind!” Daimon snarled, spearing one of the imps and then flinging it off his trident with a hard flick. Still ablaze, the projectile-imp managed to light up a bit more of the area, giving Daimon just enough time to see Morgana and lunge.

 They hit the ground in a rough tumble, both swiping wildly at anything they could reach in the dim firelight. Daimon had just gotten in a particularly satisfying hit to Morgana’s jaw when a yelp distracted him.

 Without him, the circle of fire had gone down. Without the circle, the plants were going for Loki. Daimon quickly blasted the largest batch, only for Morgana to take advantage of his split attention to kick him in the head and get some distance back between them.

 Daimon began a rather long string of curses as he stalked over to Loki, vines turning to ash at his feet. He reached out with slightly smoldering fingers and tore through the growths that had managed to get a hold, “Got a plan?”

 “Try to stay alive?” Loki offered.

 “Got a _good_ plan?”

 “Not particularly as of yet,” Loki said. “Oh, damn it, damn it, fire, Daimon! Now!”

 Evil Dead jokes aside, Daimon was damn sure the cinema was where Morgana’s inspiration was coming from. Those had been going for their faces, as iff trying to get insides of…he stopped that train of thought where it was. “Loki, how far does this stupid darkness spell of hers go?”

 “What are you talking about? How should I know?” Loki said.

 “You have a phone with Wi-Fi! Use satellite maps or something!”

 “Right, right,” Loki said, hurriedly typing while Daimon continued with the supernatural weed-whacking. “Germany…”

 “ _Loki_!”

 “Got it…about fifty feet on all sides, I’d say! Wow, it seemed bigger than that…”

 “Good enough!” Daimon declared, making a portal and chucking Loki headfirst into it before lunging through himself. “Sweet, light.”

 “Such as it is,” Loki said, glancing at the moon.

 “I take what I can get—hey!” Daimon snapped, tossing his trident and neatly catching three imps on the spines. “Feel like a roast, kid?”

 “Daimon, for all we know that spell is mobile. We should keep moving,” Loki said, backing away from the dome and stabbing an imp in the face when it got too close.

 “Better idea,” Daimon said, raising his trident and surrounding the darkness in flames. “Trap it all.”

 “I think Morgana will be harder than that trap—urk!” Loki choked as Morgana appeared behind him and grabbed him by the neck. He kicked her shins and swung his head backwards, managing to get out of her grip and tumbled away towards the trees.

 Morgana shrieked as Daimon cracked her across the face with his trident, the longest tip leaving a gash across her nose.

 “You,” the Son of Satan snarled. “Do not. Attack. _My_ sidekick.” He swung again, the trident hitting Morgana’s ribcage with a sickening crack. “I don’t care,” another swing, this one wide, scattering the imps, “what the hell he did,” a kick, “hell, I already know,” another swing, “what he did, I helped!” Daimon stabbed his trident down on the hem of her dress, lighting it on fire and outright obliterating the nearby imps.

 “How dare you!” she yelled, blasting Daimon back. “How dare you endorse his actions! The subjugation of the Otherworld! The rise of the Manchester Gods!”

 “I thought it was right,” Loki said. “You can hate me for it…when I found out I had been wrong I hated myself for it…but I thought I was doing _good_.”

 Morgana threw Loki against a tree, “You are no threat, are you boy? So you just sit there and think of your torture while I deal with him…”

 “You’ll find me a hard deal,” Daimon growled. “You may not face aging, witch, but I can make you face Hell.”

 “You cannot scare me out of revenge,” Morgana laughed. “Hell? Death? There will be others to follow me!”

 “Then I will hunt all of them too!” Daimon said. “Until you all leave Loki alone!”

 “He will suffer as long as I live, Hellstrom,” Morgana hissed.

 “Good thing no one will miss you,” Daimon said, pinning her to a tree with his trident. He drew back a hand, a fireball already forming.

 “No! Daimon…no,” Loki sighed. “She’s right. It was my fault.”

 Daimon glared at Morgana, his eyes still glowing a bright red, “That doesn’t give her the right, though.”

 “Don’t kill her!” Loki said. “I…I have a compromise. My pain for her giving up on vengeance.”

 “I’m not going to hurt you,” Daimon said. “And like hell I’m just letting _her_ go to hurt you.”

 “Not you. An associate of yours,” Loki said. “The Ghost Rider’s stare. The one that makes you feel all pain you’ve inflicted.”

 Morgana started laughing, “Oh, that should be interesting! All the sins of Loki, all at once!”

 “Kid, I’m not going to do that,” Daimon said. “You have multiple lifetimes behind you, it could-”

 “Then I will go find him myself! If it will get Morgana to leave these people alone and leave her vengeance on me, I will take a just punishment!” Loki yelled. “Killing her will just extend the cycle to someone else, and I _deserve_ to pay for my crimes against the Otherworld!”

  Daimon hit Morgana over the head, knocking her out. “You sick kid. You want that, don’t you?”

 “I cannot atone for being Loki if I cannot be all of Loki,” Loki said. “I need to know, Daimon. I need to do it.”

 “Fine,” Daimon said, opening a portal. “Your idea still sucks, though.”

 “…Will you stop me? If I go evil?”

 “I’ll be there to stop you _from_ going evil, kid,” Daimon said, tying Morgana to the tree. “And if it comes to that I’ll grab Thor so he can be too, okay?”

 Loki just watched the portal.

.o.o.o.

 Daimon and the Ghost Rider didn’t exactly get along, per say, but if there was Penance-Staring to be done and Daimon facilitated transport the rider rarely complained.

 Now Daimon just had to work on not stabbing Morgana as she tittered with glee at the growing horror on Loki’s face. He was losing that mental fight, his trident-hand getting very, very twitchy.

 Ghost Rider nodded and stepped back, Loki slumping to the ground. “He repents,” the spirit of vengeance said. “He has repented for a long time. Do you?”

 “Yes, do you?” Morgana asked Daimon.

 “I’m the intended antichrist, lady,” Daimon said with a grim smile as he went over to Loki. “The whole stare thing doesn’t work as well on me.”

 He had to admit, her screams as the Rider stared into her eyes were pretty satisfying.

.o.o.o.

 Loki woke up on a hotel cot at half-past three in the morning with a wrapped deli sandwich and a water bottle in front of him. “…You…stayed…”

“I’m a jerk of my word,” Daimon said. “So, you’ve had your first official sidekick torture, huh?”

 “You don’t have to try and keep it light,” Loki groaned, his mind still having issues sorting out all the past sins and cataloguing what were repeats and what weren’t and all the rest. “It sucks.”

 “So you remember everything?” Daimon said.

 “Yes. No. Painfully,” Loki said. “Still mostly the whats and the hows and not the whys.”

 “Why not the whys?” Daimon asked.

 Well, I suppose I remember the whys, but I do not understand them, not very well. Especially the whys against Thor,” Loki admitted. “Some of the others, I get. I guess. It hurts.”

 “Yeah, well, I’m not so good at the whole comforting thing,” Daimon said awkwardly. “But you need me to smite somebody or do something vengeful or what have you-”

 “Can…you just stay there?” Loki asked, rolling against Daimon’s side. “I don’t care if you watch TV or anything. Just…stay there?”

 “Son of Satan and mentally-unstable godling’s teddy bear,” Daimon sighed, patting Loki on the head. “How about we check in on your brother soon? Maybe that’ll help?”

 “…Not so fast. Chocolate factory a town over…”

 “Weird kid,” Daimon muttered as he began to flip through the channels. “But yeah, that sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Loki used Google Maps in a magic fight. I regret nothing.


	9. Home Sweet Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daimon decides time for a break and decides to show off his place while he's at it.

 Despite their tour of local German and Swiss chocolate factories, Loki was still far from himself. Daimon had gotten a couple hundred Euros for knocking out a thief in Switzerland who was trying to steal a chocolate recipe, and added to their total for their work at the church, he decided they needed a break.

 “Oi, Loki.”

 “Hmm?” Loki asked. His eyes once again had that glassy look that meant he was still very much under the effects of the Penance Stare and having trouble sorting out his mind.

 “We’re taking a couple days off. Maybe a week.”

 “…Have we not been doing that?” Loki asked, poking at some chocolates he had yet to eat.

 “I mean off the mortal plane entirely,” Daimon said. “We’re going to my place for a bit. Give you somewhere safe to sort out your…you-ness and I can replenish my powers.”

 “Oh,” Loki said. “We’re going to Hell?”

 “Nah, just my Hell Dimension,” Daimon said, putting his arm around Loki’s shoulders. “Totally different. Other than the brimstone.”

.o.o.o.

 “Despite your protest, this seems quite hellish,” Loki said peevishly.

 “It’s because I haven’t been here for a while,” Daimon said, flicking his wrist. A stone table and two chairs formed out of the bare landscape. “Now, where did I put the house…”

 “Wow,” Loki noted. “So your magic is stronger here?”

 “It’s _my_ dimension, kid,” Daimon said, pulling a beer out of thin air and flicking the cap off as he sat. “I can do what I want when I want.”

 “…So, just saying, if you wanted there to be a tree that grew knives inside of blue flowers over there…” Loki said, sitting opposite him.

 Daimon smirked as said tree appeared.

 “…How do you not totally abuse that?” Loki wondered.

 “Gets boring after you get used to it,” Daimon said, shrugging. “So, want some food or want to try and find why I left my pad?”

 “You lost your own house,” Loki said dryly. “ _In your own dimension_.”

 “Screw you, kid, I haven’t been here in a few months,” Daimon snapped. “Okay, molten river there, mountains there, black sand there…this way.”

 “You should consider making yourself a map,” Loki said.

 “Well, get out your phone and do it,” Daimon said. “You’re my secretary, right?”

 “Yeah, yeah…how do I have bars here?” Loki asked.

 “My place. My rules,” Daimon said. “And my rules say that I do not want to see what you’ll get up to if I deny you Wi-Fi.”

.o.o.o.

 Daimon’s “pad” as he had called was really a moderately sized sort of temple-palace that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Asgard. A hellish Asgard, but Asgard.

 “Okay, ground rules,” Daimon said, stretching out on a throne as a comfy chair for Loki appeared. “Some things like imps, gremlins, and lesser demons move between Hell Dimensions pretty easily. If you see something moving and it’s not me, run and-or stab it.”

 “Question: do you have any damned souls here?” Loki asked.

 “Few. Some of those cultists we roasted, though most went to Moloch, I’ve got this one serial killer, couple of evil scientist types, a dead supervillain or two, some murderous addicts…oh, and this one sex offender and animal abuser guy. Promised Squirrel Girl and her pals I’d keep him nice and toasty after he got the chair. Plus a couple demons I’ve imprisoned.”

 “No lawyers?” Loki quipped.

 “Do I look like the sort of guy who could stand a lawyer?” Daimon asked. “Besides, most lawyers in the Hells get there via various botched Faustian deals. Not really my thing.”

 “Interesting. You know, your eyes are glowing more than usual,” Loki said.

 “ _Demon_ ,” Daimon said. “That side gets a little more down here, if you get my drift.”

 “Oh, like how your powers are stronger?” Loki asked.

 “And my urges to be a bastard. Don’t take too much of what I say personally, I’ve been known to get in really bad moods down here,” Daimon said, summoning another beer. “So I can do my demonic stuff and you can sort your head out. We both win.”

 “All right,” Loki said. “I’ll be on the roof.”

.o.o.o.

 Daimon had forgotten how utterly relaxing his domain could be. Sure, he couldn’t stay too long without the risk of his demonic side fully taking over—hence hinting to Loki to put a timer on his phone so they had a leaving date fixed—but still, it felt like home and that was good.

 Knowing everything that went on here whenever he wanted helped with the security. Daimon considered that a major perk, since it meant he could keep an eye on Loki and know his sidekick was safe.

 The “his” was very important. Daimon was fine with the general protection of humanity and all, but singling out someone for protection…well, it was easier if he could just tell his demon half it was out of possessiveness of the brat. Hell, sometimes his human half found that was an easier explanation for caring about the kid.

 Loki was an enigma. Daimon was one of the few people who’d never quite managed to cross paths with the old Loki—beyond the versions of him in the kid’s head—and so, yeah, he got that Loki liked hanging around him since he didn’t have to walk on pins and needles around Daimon in a “please don’t let him think I’m being evil right now” way.

 Daimon snorted as he took a drag on his cigarette. Evil. Right, that little brat didn’t have it in him. Mischief, hell yes. Potential to be evil if given the reason, sure. But evil right now? Even with his head all messed up, Loki was unlikely to do anything bad, much less evil.

 Good had a lot of forms. Loki just wasn’t the type people liked as much, cleverness and trickery instead of fists and honor.

 “Daimon?”

 “Brat,” he greeted, not looking over at the kid.

 “…You, know how I can, you know, sort of see and remember everything now?”

 “That was established,” Daimon said, waiting for Loki’s actual question.

 “How do you atone for things you both did and did not do?”

 Daimon frowned. “Atonement can be tricky. Give me an example.”

 “I…the older, adult me desired a lady. So he-I killed her boyfriend and forced her to marry me-him,” Loki said.

  “Do the lady and boyfriend currently exist?” Daimon asked, making the comfy chair reappear so Loki could sit where he could see him.

 “I believe so. All Asgardians were reborn when Thor broke the Ragnarok cycle,” Loki said, settling into the chair with his head on his knees looking outright like his Hel-mutt had kicked him again.

 “Maybe send them a ‘sorry’ card. Otherwise, just keep your distance—you won’t do it again, right?” Daimon asked.

 “Right,” Loki agreed. “What about someone I killed in every lifetime for no good reason?”

 “…Personal apology?” Daimon ventured. “The whole multiple lives thing tends to throw me.”

 Loki nodded. “And the things…I am not entirely sorry for?”

 “Like? My magic’s boosted here, kid, but it doesn’t make me a mind reader.”

 “…Causing such a crisis that the Avengers were formed to stop me,” Loki said. “I cannot be sorry that the group was formed. I cannot be sorry for helping the Manchester Gods when I believed their intentions to be good, only sorry for what it led to. And I…I cannot be sorry for quite a bit of my anger at Thor in the past. And I hate that last part.”

 “So you hate yourself for not being sorry that you’re mad at your brother?” Daimon asked slowly.

 Loki nodded, “Given all, I have…some…reasons to be.”

 “What are you going to do?” Daimon asked.

 “I can’t tell him. Not without him knowing that I remember everything now,” Loki said. “And he’d feel obligated to inform the All-Father and -Mother, who may inform others. And then it would start up all over again.”

 “You know, I don’t get along with my sister,” Daimon said. “Goes by Satana. Let’s just say sis took to the whole ‘kid of the devil’ thing way more than me. She feeds on souls and stuff.”

 “Huh,” Loki said. “So you’re the good sibling?”

 “I guess,” Daimon said, shrugging. “But Thor’s a _very_ ‘good’ sibling. Does that make you the ‘bad’ sibling?”

 “Yes,” Loki said bluntly.

 “I was going for something a bit more philosophical there, you little pain,” Daimon huffed. “Look. Me being…relatively good does not make my sister evil. She is evil on her own merits. Likewise, Thor being good does not make you evil automatically. Guess what, brat? _I’m_ actually more evil than you are.”

 “What?” Loki asked, the idea apparently not having occurred to him.

 “You decided to compromise with Morgana,” Daimon said. “I was just going to waste her and possibly half the Otherworld if necessary.”

 “Over me?” Loki asked.

 “My sidekick. Emphasis on ‘my’,” Daimon said. “Demons aren’t exactly the sharing type.”

 “…Over me?” Loki asked again.

 “Please. And I’d have done it out of spite—Thor’d only do something like that out of righteousness, and I doubt _you_ would obliterate several dozen mythological beings out of nothing but spite.”

 “You didn’t know me before,” Loki reminded him.

 “I know you now,” Daimon said, glaring over his sunglasses. “And I, Daimon Hellstrom, Son of Satan, the Black Halo, Scourge of Demons and King of this Hell say: You. Are. Not. Evil. _Got it_?”

 “…Are those all of your sobriquets?” Loki asked after a moment.

 “Ah…there’s also technically ‘antichrist’ and I had Prince of Lies for a while but then Mephisto took it…yeah, guess that’d be it,” Daimon said. “So?”

 “I have more,” Loki bragged.

 “No, no, no. The old you had more, all that ‘Scarlip’ and ‘God of Lies’ stuff,” Daimon said. “You? Ah, I’d say Loki Laufeyson-Odinson, God of Mischief, Brother of Thor, and Secretary to the Son of Satan. Three to five.”

 “…I need to put all that on my resume,” Loki said. “I’d like to keep Lie-Smith, though. I lied quiet well to Mephisto and Surtur.”

 “Go ahead,” Daimon said. “…Wait a minute. What’s the resume for, anyway?”

 “When I’m older, I will be applying for the Avengers, of course,” Loki said. “I wish to have my qualifications in order.”

 “Huh. Let me know if you get on. I only ever made the Defenders when Strange needed a group for a bit,” Daimon said.

 “We’re due to leave tomorrow,” Loki noted after a pregnant pause.

 “A week already? Time flies,” Daimon said, stretching. “Okay, first thing’s first, we drop you with your brother for a bit, no complaining, you clearly need to chat with him over…stuff…and I need to get laid, so I’ll call you when I’m done with that, okay?”

 “I think prostitution is illegal in New York,” Loki said.

 “Not staying in New York,” Daimon replied.

 “Oh,” Loki said. “…You must really need to rut badly if it’ll take you a whole week.”

 “I’ll be doing other small-god-inappropriate things, I assure you,” Daimon said.

 “Ah. Thor will likely thank you for sparing my virtue,” Loki said. “What there is of it anyway. What do you want to do? I feel like doing something.”

 “Want to help me come up with new ways to torture damned souls?”

 “You know, I have an idea that might be great to use on the mad scientist types you mentioned…”

.o.o.o.

 “New York, New York, it’s a hell of a town!” Loki laughed as they appeared outside a subway station.

 “Not even asking,” Daimon muttered. Something caught his eye. “What?” He jogged over to a newsstand and snatched up a paper, absentmindedly throwing a five at the vendor and forgoing change. “Loki! Front and center!”

 Loki ran to his side, “Yes?”

 The headline blared a rather jarring message: PHOENIX FIVE TAKEN DOWN. AVENGERS PUSH MUTANT TOLERANCE EVEN AS MULTIPLE X-MEN ARE ACCUSED OF INTERNATIONAL CRIMES.

 “Daimon…did we miss one of those big world-shaking events?” Loki asked.

 “Kid, I think we did,” Daimon agreed.

 “…Now what?”

 “Screw it, let’s bunk with Strange tonight and get the gossip. We’ll find your brother in the morning,” Daimon grumbled, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets and heading down the road.

 “Just as well,” Loki mused, picking up the paper himself. “I’ve had far too many near-apocalypses this year already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they missed AvX. Yes I'm claiming AvX (or at least the parts noticable to the public) occurred over 1 week for that purpose.  
> For those who are confused about Loki's current state, he now remembers everything, but the Kid Loki personality is still dominant. He's worried because he isn't sure it'll stay that way but wants it to.


End file.
